Leftovers
by 1917farmgirl
Summary: Monsters under the bed come in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes, even people can get overlooked.
1. Monsters Under the Bed

**Leftovers**

**Author's Note**:

Firstly, I am well aware of the number of unfinished stories I have on this site. And before you all pelt me with rotten fruit, I'm working on them! My flash drive died an inglorious death last month and everything was on it. I'm piecing it back together from different sources, and hopefully not too much was lost, but it's taking time. The muse, however, has been begging to write, so I decided to let her work on this, something totally new that doesn't need reconstruction, while I get the old fics back into shape.

Secondly, this is new territory for me. I've never written anything for a crime based show before, and I'm probably going to fail spectacularly, but you only live once, right?

Special thanks to Smuffly. This story would never have made it onto paper without her help. Thanks!

**Chapter 1: "Monsters Under the Bed"**

_One need not be a chamber to be haunted;  
One need not be a house;  
The brain has corridors surpassing  
Material place._

- Emily Dickinson

00000

"I swear, sometimes when I come to these scenes, I want to applaud the killer not catch 'em."

From the corner where he was snapping pictures of the messy apartment, Adam couldn't help but smile at Danny's blunt statement. The apartment's owner, who was doing a standup job as their current corpse, was apparently a piece of work. _Drug procession, drug trafficking, assault and battery, misdemeanor child abuse… _The list of charges he'd managed to accrue in what was now a relatively short lifetime was impressive, and disgusting. Their victim had been a first-class scumbag, and secretly, Adam agreed with Danny's words, but he wasn't going to say so. His general rule for the few times he was allowed out in the field was to keep quiet unless spoken to, or unless the evidence required him to talk.

"Danny…" Mac admonished mildly as he leaned closer to the body, studying the various wounds. Flack and his Uni's had already cleared the apartment. Now Mac and Danny were processing the body and the evidence in the immediate area, leaving the perimeter to Adam and his camera.

Danny threw his hands up quickly. "Just sayin', Mac. Guy's not getting any sympathy from me!" From the doorway, Flack snorted in amusement.

Following the trail of destruction, Adam left them to their good-natured bickering as he moved into the back bedroom. It was obvious that a fight had raged through the small apartment, but the place had started out so filthy he was having a hard time distinguishing the new chaos from the old.

He pushed the bedroom door open and cringed as the smell hit him from within the dark room.

"Thank you, Danny," he muttered, understanding now why the detective was so insistent he was needed for this case. Covering his nose with a gloved hand, he gritted his teeth and felt for the light switch. He flipped it up and down several times but nothing happened.

"Great."

He dug through his vest pockets and came up with a small flashlight. Clicking it on, he shown the beam of light in front of him and gingerly started picking his way through the grime. Thankfully, the room was small. A few flashes of his light showed four walls, a small closet without a door, and old metal bed, and the most massive amount of junk and garbage he'd ever seen. _How could anyone live like this?_

With resignation, he began snapping photos, hoping he didn't go blind from the brightness of his flash going off repetitively in the near total darkness.

What felt like hours later, Adam was pretty sure their actual crime scene didn't extend into this room, but he was also convinced he'd discovered several new life-forms. He really hoped his photos would be enough; he didn't want to be sent back later to process and bag this room. There weren't enough bags in the crime lab's budget for this room! They'd have to let him go just to finance this particular case!

Pushing that disturbing thought aside, Adam knelt down next to the saggy, revolting mattress and shone his light into the blackness underneath.

Two glowing eyes blinked back at him.

Adam yelped in shock and bumped his head painfully on the bed's frame, dropping his flashlight in surprise.

"Please don't be a rat, please don't be a rat!" he muttered as he found the flashlight again and gingerly lay down in the grunge to get a better look, resisting the urge to rub his head or call Danny for backup.

Slowly, he panned the light from right to left under the bed until the two eyes were staring back at him again. This time he was expecting it and moved his beam around a little, trying to see the creature. Dirty, matted fur was revealed along with too-big ears, trembling legs, and a skinny, crooked tail.

"Oh!" he whispered. "You're a kitten!"

And suddenly, he was ten-years-old again.

"_No, Dad! I don't wanna!"_

_Flesh struck flesh, a sharp crack splitting the air. Hiccupping sobs increased._

"_Don't you back-talk me, boy! You'll do it! I won't have a sissy for a son!"_

"_Please! Please don't make me do it!"_

Harshly, Adam sucked in a deep breath and shook his head, dragging his thoughts back from the dark dregs of the past where they had no business wandering.

Looking back at the terrified kitten, his heart instantly broke. He knew Mac's rules for removing things from crime scenes, but he didn't care. No living creature should be left like that, cowering scared and hurt in the dark – that was something he personally knew better than anyone else on the team. With resolve, he removed his latex gloves and stuffed them in his vest.

"Hey, little guy," he called in what he hoped was a friendly voice. "Or girl…" he added after a second of thought. He wasn't sure if you need to be politically correct with kittens or not. "Come here," he urged gently, wiggling his fingers. "Here little kitty, kitty. I'm not gonna hurt you – promise."

The little thing didn't run but it didn't move any closer either, and the bed frame was too near to the floor for him to crawl under. He needed to get the kitten to come to him.

"All right, let's see if you like crackers."

He pulled out a package of Saltines he'd stashed in his pocket when his lunch was cut short by Danny's call to come help with this scene. Tearing away the plastic, he crumpled one of the crackers up into smaller bits and pushed it under the bed toward the wary animal. Then, he lay perfectly still, trying to show he was harmless and trustworthy.

After several minutes, the kitten crept forward an inch, then another, its small nose twitching.

"You're hungry, aren't you, little one," whispered Adam sadly. "Come on, you can eat it. It's just for you."

Hunger finally overcame fear and the animal scooted forward only to stop abruptly about three inches short of the crumbs. For the first time, Adam noticed a thin cord – maybe a shoelace – that was tied way too tightly around the kitten's neck. He ran his flashlight beam along the taunt string to find it was fastened to the leg of the bed. Anger shot through him, hot like a flame.

"I agree with Danny," he grumbled, climbing to his feet. "I'm glad this jerk's dead."

Trying not to disturb the mess, he picked his way to the other side of the bedframe. His flashlight found the offending shoelace and he knelt again, slipping the Cub Scout pocketknife he'd carried ever since he was eight from his jeans. The small blade easily severed the leash.

"Okay, little guy," he said, setting the knife down and keeping hold of the end of the shoelace. "Let's get you out of here." Slowly, he pulled on the string until he could reach down and grasp the kitten by the scruff of its neck. It let out a frightened yelp, but Adam quickly brought it close to his chest, cradling it securely.

"Sh, sh, it's okay," he soothed, rubbing his fingers down its grimy head. Using one hand, he carefully worked the string off its neck and dropped it on the ground. Then he crumbled the other cracker up in his fist and opened his hand, palm up, in front of the little kitten's nose. Immediately, it began to inhale the crumbs, its rough tongue running across Adam's palm as it ate. He grinned at the sensation.

Now that it was closer, he turned his light on it again. In a former life, it had been a bright ginger color, like a little tiger, but its fur was so dirty now it was actually brown. Its eyes were weepy and there were small cuts around its nose, not to mention that something was obviously wrong with its tail. But what really made Adam fume was the fact that someone had deliberately cut off the kitten's whiskers, leaving short, little nubs. He closed his eyes, trying to contain his anger, and didn't open them until the kitten nudged his hand, looking for more food.

"I'm gonna have to find more than just a cracker for you, aren't I?" said Adam, thoughtfully. "What am I gonna do with – "

"Adam! You done in there?"

Danny's yell startled both Adam and the kitten. Acting without thinking, he tucked the trembling ball of fur inside his vest into an inner pocket, and then turned around just as Danny pushed the door open, his flashlight beam hitting Adam directly in the eyes.

"Ouch!" Adam yelped, cringing and snapping his eyes shut, temporarily blinded.

"Sorry, buddy," Danny said with a laugh, moving the light to the side as he wrinkled his nose at the odor. "You read to go, though? It stinks worse than Jersey in here, and Mac's ready to head back to the lab."

"Yeah," answered Adam softly, getting to his feet and moving toward the doorway.

"Um, Adam? Ain't you forgettin' something?" asked Danny with a grin.

Adam squeaked, his hand flying to his vest protectively. _Was it really that obvious?_

"Am I?" he stammered.

"Camera?" suggested Danny in his "duh" voice.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Camera," Adam prattled nervously. He stumbled back to where he'd left it and grabbed it up quickly. Adam prayed Danny wouldn't notice that he was no longer wearing gloves. That would raise too many questions.

"Come on, let's go then," urged Danny impatiently.

They left the dark room and moved back down the hallway, Adam's thoughts in turmoil. He'd just stolen something from a crime scene! He could lose his job! He could go to jail! Mac was gonna kill him!

He had to tell Mac – he'd understand right?

But what if they had to treat the kitten as evidence? Maybe they'd have to kill it, or give it back to someone who would continue the abuse it had suffered? That was unacceptable. It was hungry and sick and frightened and…and…

And Adam found he couldn't lose this small animal – he just couldn't do that again. The tiny purr coming from his vest was a literal representation of the imprint that was suddenly on his heart.

But, his conscious was still telling him he needed to say something to Mac.

The main room of the apartment was strangely bright after where he'd just been and Adam found he had to squint to see for a few minutes. The body was gone and little evidence markers now littered the place. Mac and Flack were both in separate corners, talking on their phones, and the Uni's that had been at the door had apparently been dismissed to other tasks. Mac and Danny's kits were missing, so at least one of them had already made a trip down to the waiting cars to stash the evidence they'd collected for safe transport back to the lab.

A life had ended and it only took two hours to wrap it up – Adam found that oddly sad, even if he was still angry at the man who had been carted off in a body bag.

Mac's phone snapped shut with a click and he turned to the lab tech. "Did you find anything interesting, Adam?"

Adam gulped. Why did Mac have to ask that _exact_ question?

"Erm…well…Boss…" he stuttered.

Mac gave him a patient look, the one that said he was used to the younger man's stammering, but still wanted him to get to the point. It was the "I-can-see-right-through-you" look.

Adam couldn't do it. He couldn't keep this secret. Not from Mac the Human Lie Detector. "Boss I was looking around, snapping pictures of everything, just like you asked me to," he said, words suddenly tumbling from his mouth without him really giving them permission. "And I was checking under the bed and I found –"

Gunshots suddenly rang through the hallway outside the apartment, cutting of his impromptu confession. A storm of shouted profanity and arguing followed, punctuated with even more gunfire. Flack, Danny, and Mac sprang into action as one, guns instantly drawn before Adam even realized he was cringing back against the wall.

"Stay here!" Mac barked the order sharply at him without looking back, already on his way out the door to cover for Flack and Danny.

"Stay here," Adam muttered when the sound of pounding feet and yelling had faded a bit. "Right. Bad guys with guns outside and they want me to chill in the dead guy's apartment. No big deal."

Looking around the room, he saw an old piece of wood. He picked it up and held it in front of himself – just in case – and then perched on the very edge of an old trunk, trying not to let his eyes drift to the rather large pools of blood still shining in the middle of the floor.

He hoped they caught the perps fast. This place was really giving him the creeps, and the constant purr coming from his vest was starting to tickle.


	2. Deluge

**Author's Note**:

Thank you to all who have read or favorited this story. I was so nervous about it, so it makes me feel much better to know people are enjoying it.

Special thanks to smuffly for "plotting and chatting" and encouraging, and for being an impromptu beta because I can't spell worth anything. :D

**Chapter 2: "Deluge"**

_Underneath my outside face  
__There's a face that none can see.  
__A little less smiley,  
__A little less sure,  
__But a whole lot more like me. _

- Shel Silverstein, Every Thing on It

00000

"A little advice? Next time you might wanna think of a better cover story. Saying you 'accidentally shot at a cop' is a lousy one."

Don slammed the holding cell's door shut on the four stupid kids with a satisfying clang and headed back to the bullpen to start on his report. Those four had led Mac, Danny and him on a merry little chase through the back alleys of New York City, dodging bullets the whole way. He'd called for backup, but by the time they managed to corral the kids, cuff them, and stuff them into the waiting cars, they'd still cost him an hour of wasted time, sore feet, and his best pair of slacks. Don looked ruefully at the gaping hole just below the knee that he'd torn when he tackled suspect number two, Mr. I-Accidentally-Shot-At-A-Cop, into a garbage heap behind a deli. And of course, the sky had chosen that moment let loose the downpour that had been threatening all day. The three men had never wrangled suspects into cars so quickly before, and Don had been very grateful for the uni and his added vehicle.

"And I had a date tonight, too," the cop muttered as he sank into his chair, still slightly damp. His only consolation was the fact that it was Danny who had tripped and fallen into the huge puddle of mud and not him. Messer had to shower and change before they'd even let him in the precinct for interrogation.

Feeling much better, Don set about his report with a grin. It was pretty straight forward – just more of the usual: dumb kids mixing drugs and guns who would now be learning a very hard lesson about poor choices. They'd been caught red-handed, smoking guns literally still in their sweaty fingers. Six new guns for the lab techs to play with. Adam would have –

"_Adam!_" he hissed, sitting straight up suddenly and whipping out his phone. "Crap!" He hit number one on the speed dial even as he launched himself from his chair, grabbing his jacket from the back.

"Taylor," the predictably calm voice answered.

"Mac," he said, racing from the precinct, leaving only his spinning chair in his wake. "You went back and secured the crime scene and got Adam, didn't you?"

There was dead silence on the other end for almost five whole seconds; that in and of itself was answer enough. "Danny had planned to," Mac answered finally, sounding very concerned.

_Crap_, Don cursed again in his head. "Danny went with the uni in the other car of perps so he could shower and change before interrogation!" he almost shouted in his worry. This was bad, very bad. A crime scene left unattended? Never in all their time working together had something like this happened. Mac didn't let things slip through the cracks, and Don was no slouch either. And what about Adam? They'd all just left the guy sitting there. He might not know the lab tech as well as the rest of the members of Mac's team, but he liked him, and he would never purposefully abandon him like this.

"I'll call him," Mac said grimly through the phone. "Meet me outside the lab in five."

00000

_KITTENS – FREE TO A GOOD HOME_

_The little red-headed boy stared at the magic-marker sign on the cardboard box that sat on the pavement outside the corner store, transfixed but the tiny mewing sounds coming from inside._

_Tentatively, he approached._

"_Wanna see 'em?" the teenage girl asked. She was sitting by the box, trying to make the most of the shade from the building, her long brown legs and arms poking out from her shorts and tank-top. It was easily a hundred degrees today – too hot for unnecessary clothing._

_The boy nodded eagerly and she lifted two squirming balls of fur out of the box, holding them up for him to see: one black and white and one orange striped, like a tiger._

_He reached for the orange one, pulling it close. It wiggled in his arms, studying him even as he was studying it._

"_He's a cutie, isn't he?" the girl said with a smile, showing off pink and purple braces._

_He nodded, running fingers through the soft, clean fur. He loved the way he could feel its little heart beat through his thin t-shirt, amazed that he could be holding something so _alive_!_

_His mind raced. He'd always wanted a pet, but like many things in his life, he knew what he could and couldn't ask for. But, he suddenly had a wild idea. His dad had been after him really hard lately, telling him he needed to grow up, stop being such a baby, show some responsibility. This was his chance! He could prove to his dad just how responsible he was, and get a friend in the process._

"_You gonna take him?" the girl asked hopefully._

_It took him only a second to decide. The boy nodded again._

_The little kitten nudged his hand and licked his fingers as he started off. "Nice to meet you, too, Hobbes," he whispered as he walked carefully home, his bright mind already full of plans._

With a jolt, Adam's head slipped off his arm and he jerked awake, barely catching himself before he fell face-first on the ground. He wasn't fast enough to catch the board that had been holding his weight up, however, and it clattered to the floor with a loud clash.

Adam let it lay there, scrubbing a hand across his face to dispel the lingering cobwebs of dreams. He then turned his attention to the small animal trying to squirm its way out of his vest pocket.

"Hey, little monster," he said affectionately, thinking of how he found the kitten like a monster under the bed. "I know you're bored and wanna get out, but you gotta stay in there for a bit longer, okay?" One hand keeping the kitten in his vest, he used the other to dig out his phone and check the time. Three-forty-eight the little device blinked back at him.

He read the numbers with shock. Mac and the others had been gone for more than an hour! Boredom was erased in seconds and replaced with desperate worry. Something had to have gone wrong! What if they'd all been shot and were lying in some dark alley bleeding to death and he was just sitting there, napping at the crime scene because they'd told him to stay put?

Gut churning, he punched the number for Danny's phone on speed dial, but before it could even ring, the dazzling light show of his phone powering down appeared.

"No!" he yelled, shaking it irrationally, even as the phone gave him a cheerful, "Goodbye!" completely oblivious to his distress.

His phone was dead.

Recharging the battery had been on his list of things to do this afternoon right after lunch, until Danny had called him and demanded he get his butt over to the crime scene pronto, and then it had completely slipped his mind.

Now what did he do? Mac had specifically told him to stay put, but Mac had never run off and abandoned him at a crime scene this long. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong!

Adam made his mind up. Still using one hand to keep the kitten inside his vest where it was safe, he stood and gathered up his camera. At the door, he stopped, unsure again of what protocol covered a situation this strange. The CSI's usually locked the door and put up the crime scene seal with sticky, yellow tape, but Adam had never done it by himself before. What if he broke regulations?

But then, regulations had been thrown out the window the minute the others had been forced to run off after more criminals and into whatever danger was keeping them so long, leaving the crime scene unattended.

He picked up the crime scene notice and yellow tape from where it sat by the entryway then exited the apartment, closing and locking the door carefully behind him. Trying to remember how he'd seen Danny and the others do it, he taped up the paper and then sealed the door, showing that the scene was still secure. It was the best he could do, he decided, and so stuffed the rest of the tape in to his already bulging pockets and stepped backwards, right into another person.

"Oh, sorry, sorry!" he stuttered to the middle-aged woman he'd plowed into, thoroughly embarrassed.

"Should you be in there?" she asked by way of greeting, looking annoyed as she picked a large handbag up off the floor. "I hear it's a crime scene."

Adam flashed his ID, trying to pin on a winning smile. "I kinda go to crime scenes for my job," he explained. "How did you know what happened?"

"Mrs. Abrams. Apartment 367," she explained curtly, gesturing to the next door over. "And all the other cops left ages ago. A bit slow, aren't you." It wasn't a question.

Adam felt very much like he was being grilled by the playground duty from second grade about why he'd dared to venture off the blacktop. His desire to escape and find his friends increased exponentially. "I was just leaving," he muttered and beat a hasty retreat to the elevator, noting with relief that there was no sign of hidden gun-toting bad guys inside it.

Exiting the lobby onto the street, Adam came to a dead stop for two reasons. The first was that rain was coming down from the sky in sheets, at least an inch of water already on the pavement, rippling harshly in the wind. But the second was more shocking than the frigid water streaming into his face: the cars were gone.

The significance of that stark truth dawned on him instantly. Flack, Danny and Mac weren't in trouble. They weren't injured or dead somewhere and needing his help. They'd left him. He'd been forgotten.

His face fell as a wave of hurt he couldn't stop washed over him, colder than any downpour of rain. Instantly, he felt ashamed and tried to push it aside, his mind hastening to justify what his eyes were telling him. There had to be a reason…something must have come up…the arrest had been a difficult one… He'd repeat the excuses until he believed them, because what else could he do?

Adam checked on the tiny ball of fur sheltering in his vest. "I'm sorry, little monster," he said with regret. "Looks like we're gonna get wet for a bit."

He had no money for a taxi or the subway; he'd left his wallet in his locker that morning and hadn't bothered to pick it up when he ran to join Danny after his call. And of course he'd left his jacket as well.

With a sigh, the lab tech tucked his camera inside his vest as well and then pulled it close, trying to protect both it and the kitten from the storm the best he could. Then he ducked his head and started off, gritting his teeth to endure the twenty block trudge back to the lab.

"I swear, one day I'm gonna invent the dehydrated umbrella," he muttered darkly. "Keep it in your pocket 'till it rains, then pull it out. Voilà! Just add water…"

00000

"Lindsay, wait up!"

Lindsay turned when she heard Sheldon's voice and waited, letting the elevator doors slide closed without her.

"What's up, Doc?" she quipped with a smile.

"Original, Linds," the man said, shaking his head with a grin.

"I'm tired and my feet are swollen," she replied, pointing down to where she thought her feet still were, even if she could no longer see them around her bulging stomach. "It's the best I could do on short notice."

"Sid asked me to bring you his report. He said it had interesting information for that case you and Stella have been – "

He stopped speaking abruptly as the elevator doors dinged opened and a figure emerged. Lindsay whirled to see what had caught his attention.

"Oh my –" she breathed.

Adam Ross stood there, soaked to the skin and looking more miserable than she'd ever seen him. He couldn't have been any wetter if he'd sat in a swimming pool for a few hours fully clothed.

"Look what the storm blew in!" Sheldon said, shaking his head again. "Adam, you look like a drowned…lab rat!"

"What happened?" Lindsay asked. She was smiling and wishing she had a camera, but underneath it all was real concern. Adam looked thoroughly beat.

"Tell Mac I'll be in the locker room for a bit," was all the lab tech said in a very quiet voice. He turned and walked away, his canvas sneakers squelching bubbles of water as he went and leaving a trail of puddles in his wake.

Lindsay and Sheldon eyed each other. That was strange, even for Adam.

"What do you think?" she finally asked Sheldon, still staring down the hallway at the corner Adam had just disappeared around.

"I think I'd better get a mop. Someone might kill themselves on this floor."

She slapped at him, rolling her eyes at his teasing.

"Go home," he told her lightly. "Don't worry, I'll check on him in a bit. He's Adam. He'll be fine."

"Keep me posted. I wanna know the whole story if it's good," she replied. The elevator opened once more and this time she stepped inside, waving goodbye. Tonight, she had a date with her couch and her fuzzy, heated slippers.


	3. Regrets

**Dedication: **This chapter is dedicated to Mrs. C. Not only were you one of the classiest ladies I've ever known and an amazing teacher, but you were an impeccable example. You encouraged me to love words and understand their power. Thank you for everything! You will be missed.

**Chapter 3: "Regrets"**

_Kittens can happen to anyone._

- Paul Gallico

00000

"He's not answering his phone," Mac said by way of greeting, sliding into the shotgun seat of Don Flack's car as it stopped outside the New York City Crime Lab. Worry laced his voice as he closed the door against the pouring rain. Adam was a quirky and sometimes confusing young man, but he was a dedicated and hardworking member of his team. Mac would be lying if he didn't admit to harboring a bit of a protective streak when it came to the lab tech.

Don swore softly under his breath and flipped on the flashing lights of his car, pressing down a little harder on the gas as he tried to weave in and out of the crazy Manhattan traffic.

"How'd we let this happen, Mac?" the cop asked, his fingers clenched around the steering wheel as he leaned forward in concentration. The windshield wipers were working overtime trying to keep the glass clear of the downpour of water.

"A classic case of us all thinking the other person was doing it, and no one checking to see if they really were," answered Mac, frowning deeply.

He was angry.

Not at Don or at Danny, but at himself. He was the leader; he'd been in charge. It was his job to make sure protocol was followed, that all the i's were dotted and the t's were crossed, and he'd dropped the ball. True, there'd been extenuating circumstances, but his conscience would never let him hide behind that excuse. Whatever the trickle-down effects of this mistake were he'd accept them along with the blame.

He just desperately hoped Adam wasn't paying the price right now. The last time he'd left the young man inadvertently alone at a crime scene he'd been taken hostage and tortured. He'd never forgive himself if Adam was in trouble again.

And even if he wasn't, the cold, hard fact was that they'd left him behind. Forgotten about him in the mess of the chase and subsequent arrests. They hadn't meant anything by it, but Mac knew how insecure Adam was when it came to his status in the lab and as part of the team – even more so when it came to personal friendships. This was going to hurt Adam, and that filled Mac with even more self-reproach.

They didn't speak again until Don pulled up to the building they'd left only a few short hours earlier. There was nowhere to park but that didn't bother the detective. He simply double parked and left the lights flashing.

Mac raised an eyebrow at him as he killed the engine.

"Someone wants to leave, they can call the cops," said Don with a shrug and a grin.

Mac smiled in spite of himself as they both opened the doors and climbed out into the rain once again.

"I swear," muttered Don a minute later as they finally pushed into the lobby, "if this keeps up we're gonna need a raft to get back to the lab." He shook his head, sending water flying from his black hair.

"Sorry but inflatable rafts were cut from the budget," Mac deadpanned as he strode across the lobby and jabbed a finger at the "up" button on the elevator. Behind him he heard Don's snort of laughter as he followed.

When the doors slid open on the third floor both men approached the apartment with caution, hands close to their guns and all joking aside. Mac had learned the hard way that it was always better to be overly cautious. They still had one AWOL lab tech and he had no idea what they'd find.

He didn't expect to find a neatly and officially sealed crime scene, yellow tape and notice exactly in place.

"Ross?" Don asked, gesturing to the door.

"Probably," Mac answered. It seemed like the logical answer and was certainly something the tech would do, covering for his colleagues no matter how hurt he was at the time. But then why wasn't he answering his phone? Or even better, if he'd closed and left the scene, why hadn't Mac seen him come back to the lab?

"I take it we're still going inside," said Don. It wasn't really a question.

"Of course. Appearances can be deceiving." Mac sliced through the seal and the tape, already envisioning the added paperwork this was going to cause, and carefully opened the door.

Don entered first, gun drawn, and Mac followed, but both quickly put away their weapons. The room was as empty as they'd left it. Emptier, actually, as it was conspicuously missing one jumpy lab tech.

"Huh," muttered Don, turning in circles. "So, someone kidnapped our lab rat, sealed our crime scene up all nice and pretty, and then left?"

Mac didn't answer, lost in thought. Could Adam be avoiding him? It was very unlikely that the man wouldn't answer his phone, but it wasn't impossible. If he was hurt and nursing his pride he might be screening his calls.

"Hey, Mac," Don's voice suddenly cut into his musing, drawing his attention. "There was a picture here."

Mac moved over to where the detective was standing by the fridge, staring at an empty spot on the otherwise completely covered and filthy surface.

"I remember because it was like mullet central. A bunch of people who really loved the '80s."

Mac didn't remember the picture, but he'd processed the body and its immediate surroundings. It was Adam who'd done the perimeter and extra rooms, and Danny who'd bagged the evidence. He didn't remember Danny bagging any photos. Mac frowned, not liking where this was going.

"Someone's been in here since we left," he said gravely.

"And they took Adam and a really bad photo?" Don's voice was confused.

"Look around. See if anything else is different," Mac ordered, not answering the question because he didn't know what to say yet. There were several possibilities here, and he didn't like any of them.

Ten minutes later he was standing back in the main room with two small evidence bags and oh so many more questions. And Adam still wasn't answering his phone.

"So, now what?" asked Don.

Mac's phone rang before he could answer. He glanced at the ID. _Danny_. Good. Maybe the other man could provide some of the insight that he was obviously missing.

00000

Danny was standing in front of his locker, drying his hair off with a towel when he heard a funny squelching noise. He glanced over to the entryway just in time to see Adam slink in forlornly.

"What the heck?" he cried, looking his friend up and down. The young lab tech was dripping wet from head to toe. Adam sank down onto the bench by the lockers with a sigh.

"What happened, Adam?" Danny demanded.

Adam gave him a strangely piercing glance before lowering his gaze back to his soggy shoes.

"It's raining outside," he muttered. "Long walk."

Realization crashed into Danny. _Adam, the crime scene, the mad scramble to get in out of the rain…_ Guilt flooded through him and he swore strongly.

"Aw man, Adam!" he said earnestly. "We left you there, didn't we? I'm so sorry!"

"S'okay," said Adam softly. "I secured the scene."

"No it's not okay," replied Danny. He grabbed a dry towel from his locker and tossed it at the lab tech. "Here, use that," he ordered as he grabbed his cell phone from his locker before slamming the door shut. He sat by his younger friend on the bench.

"This is my fault. The arrest was a little crazy and Mac told me to go back to secure the crime scene and get you, but I forgot. Got shoved in a mud pit and was beyond filthy. The cop who gave me a ride wouldn't let me sit in his car until he covered the seat with garbage bags. Perp laughed at me the whole time from the back."

Adam was absently rubbing the towel through his sopping curls with one hand as he listened to Danny's hurried confession. He cracked a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as his other hand clutched at his vest.

"We didn't mean nothing by it, Adam," said Danny sincerely.

Adam nodded. Danny knew Adam wouldn't hold a grudge, that he was forgiven; his friend just wasn't that type of guy, but he still looked so miserable and lost that Danny's guilt wouldn't go away.

"Why didn't you call us?" the detective asked.

Wordlessly, Adam pulled his phone from his pocket and pushed the power button. When nothing happened, Danny's regret doubled.

"Oh," he said lamely. He'd already noticed the lack of a jacket and wallet when Adam came running to join him several hours earlier after his phone call.

"You got any dry clothes, here?" he asked with a sigh.

"Yeah, I'm good," Adam finally spoke to him again, giving a typical Adam answer. "I got some stuff in there." He gestured back over his shoulder to his locker.

_Stuff_ probably meant his jacket. And Danny noticed he was still clutching at his chest. Worry shot through him.

"You hurt?" he asked earnestly as he climbed back to his feet and walked the short distance to his locker. He opened it up and pulled out an extra dry shirt, glad he'd come well prepared this week.

"What?" Adam asked distractedly, then he followed Danny's gaze to his chest. "Oh, no," he said quickly. He pulled the camera from his vest. "I was trying to keep it dry."

"Trade ya," Danny offered lightly, taking the camera from his grasp and pushing the shirt into it. "I'll get working on the pictures. You dry off."

Adam started to protest, but then his hand crept back to his chest, and he seemed to change his mind.

"Okay," he finally said. "Thanks, Danny."

"Hey, it's the least I can do. I owe you big time!" Danny laughed. "Get dry, okay? I don't wanna be responsible for telling Mac you have pneumonia."

_Hmmm, telling Mac, _Danny thought suddenly, glancing at the phone in his hand. While he was showering and cleaning up he'd apparently four missed calls from his boss, and two from Don. He had a feeling what they might be about.

"Come find me in a bit," he said to Adam as he slung the camera over his shoulder and then pushed redial.

"Hey, Mac, I messed up," he said when the other man answered as he walked out of the locker room, Adam still sitting on the bench behind him.

00000

Adam watched Danny leave the locker room, thoughts in turmoil. The detective had confirmed his suspicions – both of them. There had been unforeseen complications with the arrest, but he _had_ still been forgotten.

It stung, but he tried to swallow it. It had just been one of those kind of days.

He glanced at the shirt in his hand. It would be very nice to be dry.

A strange little wail coming from inside his vest suddenly interrupted his thoughts as a nose and two bright, scared eyes finally managed to wiggle out into the light.

"You want outa there, don't you, little monster," he said. Even traumatized, attention-starved kittens would only handle cuddly naps for so long. This one had reached its limit.

Adam stood and opened his locker quickly, trying hard to keep the kitten from escaping. He searched the dark depths for dry clothes and came up with a pair of clean socks and his gym shorts. The socks he kept; the shorts he shoved back into the corner they'd come from, making a mental note to restock his "Extra Clothes at Work" pile. He considered leaving the kitten in his locker while he changed and dried off, but it was so dark and closed in and too much like the horror he'd rescued it from to begin with. He just couldn't do it.

"Come on, buddy. Let's go get dry." As an afterthought, he snagged the leftovers from his lunch and then closed the locker.

Fifteen minutes later he'd made several discoveries. One was that bathroom hand dryers make ineffective clothes dryers, especially when mounted to the wall at awkward angles. He'd changed into Danny's shirt, feeling a little conspicuous, but his jeans were still decidedly damp and he might have accidentally shorted out the drying unit from leaving it on too long. Perhaps that whole process might have worked better if he had actually taken them off before trying to dry them.

The other revelation was that there was something very wrong with his kitten. He'd placed the food in the corner and set the kitten next to it, hoping to keep it occupied while he changed. It worked, for a bit. The famished kitten devoured the rest of his tuna sandwich with a passion while he worked on his cold, wet jeans, but once the food was gone it had inevitably tried to go exploring, and that's when Adam's worry started working overtime. The poor little thing tripped and stumbled, completely off balance as it pitched here and there around the small, tile room.

"Oh, little monster," he said, shaking his head in extreme sadness as he gazed at the creature's crooked tail and dirty fur while it stumbled around. This kitten needed more help than he could give he realized as he sat on the floor, trying to pull on his dry socks while wearing damp jeans that stuck to him and refused to bend properly. He skipped the shoes completely. They were hopeless and the dyer had given up the ghost before he even had a chance to start on them.

He gathered up his soaked shirt, vest and shoes in one hand, then reached to gently scoop up the kitten in the other. "Come on, little guy," he said, padding out of the bathroom in his socks. "I've got a friend you need to meet."

**Author's Note: **As always, thanks to Smuffly for muse and beta help. She's amazing!

Sorry for the tardiness of this chapter. Real life swamped me the last few weeks.


	4. In for a Penny

**Chapter 4: "In for a Penny…"**

_Sometimes, your pet picks you. _

- Julie Wenzel, Alone I Walk

00000

"Mmm huh," Sid muttered into the phone, scribbling quickly on a paper. "'K, got it." He wrote a few more words.

"Already?" he said next, writing another word as he shook his head. "Lizzie, I know I just bought two bottles of that a few weeks ago! Exactly how much hairspray can three women use in one month?"

A sudden, hesitant knock on his office door sounded and he looked up to see a rather damp Adam Ross standing in the open doorway. Sid frowned at his appearance and his overactive brain started spinning theories. Adam didn't visit him in the morgue very often, let alone seek him out in his office. He was particularly curious about the sock-clad feet. He held up one finger asking for a moment and mouthed "shopping list from Elizabeth."

Adam smiled.

"Yes, dear, I'm listening to you," Sid answered the voice coming through his phone, turning back to his list. "Coffee, bread, non-weird cheese. Non-weird cheese, huh? Tell Sariah she can be in charge of dinner this week if she objects to my cheese choices," he muttered with a smile. "All right, Lizzie. I shall pick it all up for you on my way home. Love you, too. Bye."

He hung the phone back on its receiver then stood to greet his guest.

"Now, Adam, what can I do for you?"

"Weird cheese?" the tech asked with a grin.

"Sariah is a teenager. I don't question her wardrobe, she shouldn't question my cooking."

"Fair enough," Adam agreed.

"So, I'm betting Mac didn't send you down to get the autopsy results in socks and Danny's shirt. What's going on, Adam?"

Instantly, the lab tech went from laughing to somber and worried. He glanced around, making sure they were alone, and then stepped into the office. From the wadded up jacket in his hands he removed something and set it on Sid's desk.

"Sid, I really need some help."

Sid stared in shock for a moment before he found his voice. "Is that a kitten?"

Adam nodded.

"Adam, why do you have a kitten? And why did you bring it to me?"

"I…I…" the lab tech stammered, not meeting his eyes as he tried to keep the little animal from wandering off the edge of the desk. Sid stepped up and gently took hold of it. It was in very sad shape.

"I took him from a crime scene," Adam finally whispered.

Sid looked at him sharply.

"I know, I know!" the other man continued before he could say anything. "But he's so tiny and sick and it was dark and disgusting and I just couldn't leave him there, okay? I just couldn't!"

There was much more to this story than just that rushed confession if the damp jeans and missing shoes were anything to go by.

"At least, I think it's a he," Adam continued rambling, his nervousness making him fill the silence. "I don't really know…"

"Exactly how many Master's degrees do you have again?" Sid couldn't help asking with a smile.

"Not in how you tell if a kitten is a girl or boy! They didn't cover _that_ in tech classes!"

Sid laughed, somehow enjoying this odd change of pace for his day, even if he was a bit worried that this was going to get the quiet lab tech into trouble. He carefully raised the kitten up and studied it with a critical eye for a moment, then handed it back to his young colleague.

"Congratulations, Mr. Ross. You have a boy."

Adam took the kitten with a smile, and Sid didn't miss the careful, loving way he cradled it. Yes, there was certainly much more than met the eye going on here.

"But why did you come to me? I'm not a veterinarian, Adam."

"But, next to Mac, you're the smartest guy I know. And you _are_ a doctor…"

Sid was oddly flattered, even if he had been shelved under Mac in the list. He knew the pedestal Adam placed the crime lab boss on; he wouldn't ever dream of trying to top that height.

"Can you tell me what's wrong with Monster? Please? I'm worried about him."

"Monster?" Sid cried in horror. "You named this adorable little cat Monster?"

Adam shrugged. "He was under the bed. That's where you find monsters, right?"

He said it with such certainty that Sid had no doubt monsters had been very real to Adam at one point. He looked at the bedraggled lab tech with a glimmer of new understanding. With a small shake of his head, he pulled a spare pair of gloves from his desk and slipped them on. Then he reached for the little animal one more time. Gently, he examined the kitten for a moment, trying not to scare the nervous creature further.

"You know you'll have to tell, Mac, don't you?" he said while he worked.

"I know," Adam mumbled. "But he's…um…gone right now."

An evasive answer – again. In a few days, when this had all settled and worked itself out, Sid was going to have to corner someone and ask for a complete explanation. He knew he'd never get it from Adam himself.

"Have you fed this little fellow?" asked Sid, changing the topic.

"A cracker. And leftover tuna fish. I'll get something better."

Sid set the kitten down on the floor of his office and pulled the gloves off, watching as it stumbled around.

"What's wrong with him, Sid?" Adam asked, worry strong in his voice. "Why can't he walk right?"

"Cats rely on their whiskers for more than just great navigation in the dark. They actually play a large part in how they maintain balance. I suspect that's his biggest problem right now and when they grow back, he'll be fine again."

Adam heaved a huge sigh of relief, but underneath Sid saw anger – anger that someone could be so cruel to do that to a helpless little creature.

"What else?"

Sid sighed. "He's malnourished, dirty, and suffering from what I believe is an upper respiratory infection – not entirely uncommon in kittens. His tail was broken a few weeks ago and has mended wrong, but he won't be the first cat to survive with a crooked tail." As he spoke, he went to the small refrigerator he kept beside his desk and pulled out the empty Tupperware Lizzie had sent lasagna in for his lunch, filling it with water from a bottle. Carefully, he placed it on the floor and guided the kitten to it. "Beyond that, Adam, you really need to take him to a real vet," he said, watching as the little pink tongue shot in and out, lapping up the water greedily.

"I will, I promise," Adam said, looking entirely overjoyed to find out his kitten wasn't on the brink of dying on him. Sid couldn't help but notice how young it made the lab tech seem and the father in him hurt just a little for his colleague, knowing what he'd pieced together over the years.

"Adam," Sid asked kindly, getting the other man to look at him, "do you know anything about taking care of kittens?"

00000

"_Do you know anything about taking care of kittens, son?"_

_The little boy looked up at the clerk solemnly, nodding. Of course he knew how to take care of kittens. He'd looked it all up in the library first thing this morning! That's why he was here, after all!_

_The elderly clerk smiled kindly at the red-haired boy. "You're going to need food," she said slowly._

_He produced the bag of kitten chow from the cart, lifting it with effort onto the counter that was level with his shoulders. _Kitten chow_, not cat food. He'd made extra sure 'cause the library books had said that was important._

"_And dishes for the food and lots of water…"_

_He place the plastic dishes he'd picked out on the counter next to the food._

"_And a litter box for the kitten to do his business in…"_

_Again Adam put items on the counter, a plastic box and a bag of cat litter. Before the clerk could open her mouth again, he slapped down the package of cat toys as well and crossed his arms, daring her beat that one._

_The woman laughed. "I stand corrected, young man. You are an expert on kittens. Now, are your parents going to help you pay for all this?"_

_Adam shook his head, holding up a plastic baggie full of lots of coins and a few green bills. It was every penny he owned: birthday money from Aunt Gladys, the money he'd earned from watering batty old Mrs. Dent's plants for two weeks while she was on her cruise, allowance money from the few times his dad was in a good mood and remembered to give it to him, and the twenty dollars he'd found on the playground that had been returned to him when no one claimed it after a month._

"_Ah, your very first solo venture into responsibility, I see," the clerk said as she began to ring up his purchases. "Your parents must be so proud."_

"Adam?"

Sid's voice broke into his thoughts and Adam realized the older man was staring at him strangely. _Crap_. He'd just successfully zoned out in front of the ME.

"Sorry, Sid. Just tired, I guess," he muttered, running a hand across his face. "Yeah, I know how to take care of a kitten, but I've still got five hours of my shift left today. I was wondering…um…if maybe…you could keep him…erm…here until then?" He gazed at Sid with puppy-dog eyes while mentally crossing his fingers.

"Here, where Mac won't see him and you won't have to answer any questions?" Sid countered with alarming accuracy.

"Um…maybe?"

Sid sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You know I should be lecturing you and then turning you in, right?"

"But how can you resist this face?" Adam asked, picking Monster up and turning his little head gently toward Sid.

Sid caved.

Twenty minutes later Adam had "requisitions" a bag of sand, a spare tray from Trace, a slightly stale ham sandwich Danny would never miss from the fridge, and a few empty film canisters from photography to be used as makeshift cat toys. He bundled his jacket in a corner of Sid's office so Monster would have a soft place if he wanted to take a nap, and then carefully shut the door behind him.

Now, if he could just make it through the next five hours without running into Mac, he thought as he padded up the stairs in his socks.

**Author's Note:** Thanks ever so much to Smuffly for her constant incoragement and help with this story!


End file.
